M A D N E S S
by Kathryne O'Brien
Summary: Something was very wrong with Stiles Stilinski. The main problem being...He didn't know if it was real or not.


**Well, hi there! This is just a little something I wrote up last night while awaiting my post limit on Tumblr to be over, so, yeah! I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: Me, own Teen Wolf? Nope.**

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Eye lids heavy, Stiles fell back onto the messy pile of blankets and pillows he called a bed and let out a breath, welcoming whatever sleep he could get. In the events following the Nogitsune incident, there had been no time to sleep. There was coping that had to be done—for Allison and Aiden—and consoling—mainly for Scott and Lydia—and, honestly, a good deal of time was definitely spent reassuring his friends that he was _perfectly fine_. Really, though, he didn't feel fine. Something was still wrong, but he figured it was just the emotional aftermath of having a centuries old spirit take over his body. He was sort of developing insomnia, refusing to close his eyes once darkness spread across the sky, busying himself with tidying his room or trying to catch up on the mound of homework he had to make up. The idea of sleep still slightly terrified him, but his current exhaustion trumped whatever fears he had.

Stiles knew he probably wasn't fooling anyone, since there were still bags under his eyes and his skin was still pale, but it wasn't just the lack of sleep. His head was swimming, constantly pounding, his back ached, and in general, it just felt like he was made of lead. If he stopped moving for too long, his joints locked up and every time he so much as breathed, pain shot through his body and he'd have to ease himself into motion, gritting his teeth.

It was already setting in, he realized as he let his eyes slide closed. His muscles tightened of their own accord, freezing in place like he was made of stone. Something was wrong. He probably should have told Scott, but…Stiles was the one who was fine. Scott had his moments of freaking out in absolute despair, and Lydia wasn't a stranger to mental chaos, but Stiles? Other than a few brief times of emotional distress, he was the fine one. Because he was the one who figured everything out. Anyway, that also meant he'd probably be able to get somewhere with what was happening to him before too long. Before he had to involve anyone else. They'd all already gone to so much trouble because of him. Because the door had still been ajar. And, even though it wasn't technically his fault, it was. He couldn't let anything like that happen again.

Before he could really delve into these worries, sleep took over, effectively shutting down his current train of thought and dragging him into a new world of chaos. Something's wrong, something's really, really wrong, he thought before drifting off.

Snow was falling gently onto dark green grass, slowly covering the bright purple flowers sticking up from the ground. He was in the middle of the preserve, probably close to Derek's old house. But he'd never seen it like this. The moon shone full force, somehow not hidden by the tall trees that seemed to block out the rest of the night sky. That did beg the question though—if the moon was out and the sky was clear, where was the snow coming from? He twisted around, craning his neck to look. Nothing. The snow was just…_there,_ floating down sluggishly. A few flakes landed on his face and he blinked, wiping at his cheeks and gazing around once again.

The grass wasn't stomped down and dead like it usually was—nope, it actually looked recently cut, and he had to guess from how black it looked in the moonlight that it was a dark green. The trees had all sorts of differently-shaped leaves hanging off of their snowy branches, a few occasionally falling. But what worried Stiles the most, he realized after further inspection, were the flowers. He'd done his research, and, of course, he'd seen the real thing in person plenty of times. The drooping violet petals were almost sickeningly familiar to him.

_Wolfsbane._ A huge patch of it. It was growing in huge clumps, covering…Something. What was it? Stiles took a step forward, bare feet padding forward silently. It was big, that was for sure. Rounded, and twisted oddly, like…A body. Eyes narrowing curiously, he bent and reached out for the flowers, yanking them apart. There was something there…The snow fell faster and faster as he continued to pull the wolfsbane away, eventually uncovering…No.

He jumped away almost immediately, falling onto his rear and scrambling backwards. The thing—no, the _monster_—he'd uncovered started moving, thrashing underneath the roots that held its arms and legs down into the ground.

_"—Stiles,"_ the Nogitsune rasped, and the teen got the feeling that, as its bandaged head struggled to raise, that it was trying to look at him. _"—I'm dying."_

Despite himself, Stiles let his brows lift high above his eyes. "And I'm supposed to show you some concern?" He meant it to come out sounding tough—God, when had he turned into _Jackson?_—but his voice was shaky, weak, betraying him. His fear was evident in his tone, even though his words were intended to be sharp. Another hoarse breath.

_"—We're dying,"_ the fox amended, making Stiles freeze. His back stiffened, and he fought the urge to flinch as the creature continued to attempt to free itself. _"—You can feel it, Stiles, I know you can."_ Stiles swallowed hard. He wanted to say that he had absolutely no idea what the fox was talking about…But he did. But this was just a dream, right? Just a dream, that's all. It seemed so constant, though… _"—We're decaying, rotting away into nothingness."_

A shaky breath escaped the teen as the Nogitsune freed one of its arms, the gauze on its hand starting to come undone. "I don't know what you mean by that," he tried to lie, but it sounded painfully false, even to him. "I'm fine."

Hearing it laugh in that form sent chills down his spine, and he had to clench his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. _"—You can't fool me, Stiles. We both know what's happening, and there's only one way to stop it."_ A cold, sinking feeling settled into the pit of his stomach at those words. _"—Let me in, Stiles. Let me in, and we can live."_

"No." The word left Stiles' lips before he could even think about it—not that he needed to, even if this was real. He'd already made that mistake. "No, I'm not gonna be your bitch again."

This just seemed to enrage the Nogitsune; it let out a roar, suddenly snapping all of the roots around it and lunging for him. _"—Let me in! __Let me in!"_ It didn't get very far, still somehow held back by the wolfsbane, but it still grabbed for him, and he jerked backwards again, this time landing on his back. _**"Let me in!"**_

And, suddenly, there was another voice. "Stiles, Stiles! Wake up!" Not the Nogitsune…His dad. _His dad?_ "Stiles, son! Wake up!" He was being shaken, and, just as the fox lurched up and grabbed for him again, he was ripped away.

Stiles gasped for air, looking up and around with wild eyes. He eventually realized his father was leaning over him, concern etched into every line of his face. His mouth was moving—was he saying something? After what seemed like an eternity, he was finally able to understand what his dad was saying.

"Are you okay? Stiles, are you okay?" he demanded, eyes urgent. "You were screaming." Was he? Honestly, it wouldn't have surprised him. He swallowed—_why was his mouth so dry?_—and forced himself to nod, even though he could feel his hands shaking.

"I'm fine." he said in a cracked voice. "Just a bad dream." His dad gave him a look, picking up one of his hands and showing it to him. His fingers were shaking so violently that he could barely see them clearly.

"I don't think you are," his father started, but Stiles wasn't paying attention, trying to focus on one thing. When he became positive of what it was, he let out a shuddering breath.

"Dad, I need to call someone." he interrupted, staring at his hands.

His fingers were stained the exact color of wolfsbane, and there was dirt underneath his fingernails.

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**Sooo, what do you think? I'm not completely positive that I'm going to branch out on this, but I'd like to, since I had a lot of fun writing it. (Is that bad? I mean, I love Stiles and I absolutely just want him to be safe, but I LOVE ANGST.) If there's enough interest, I'll probably post another chapter. Let me know what you guys think! Also, special thanks to kaljara, since she was the first person to read this and give me feedback; I love you!**


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